


On Questing and Old Age

by Ezekiel Grayson (MordeshLibertine)



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alchemy, Gardens, Gen, Questing, Spagyrics, The Crystarium, patch 5.2 spoilers, shadowbringers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:29:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27187978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MordeshLibertine/pseuds/Ezekiel%20Grayson
Summary: While the Scions await the results of Beq Lugg and the Exarch's labors, Warrior of Light Pyotyr Ilych helps out around the Crystarium and frustrates Alisaie Leveilleur. Contains Spoilers up through approximately Patch 5.2. Originally written for #9 of FFXIV Write 2020 and entitled "Lush."
Relationships: Alisaie Leveilleur & Warrior of Light
Kudos: 5





	On Questing and Old Age

"Careful... Careful..." Pyotyr murmured to himself. The Purple-haired, dark skinned Duskwight Elezen was sitting on a bench in a Gazebo in the Crystarium's extensive gardens, a beaker in one hand, trying very carefully to add just a few drops of grape extract into a beaker, the finishing touches on a rather finicky potion he'd been brewing using his travelling alchemist's kit - not that he couldn't have had the run of the facilities over in Spagyrics, but he wanted the fresh air, the lush greenery of the gardens, and the relative lack of interruption.

"There you are!" a voice called out (just as he had finished his mixing, blessedly enough), and he corked the bottle before looking up to see the young Alisaie Leveilleur running toward him.

"Alisaie," he beamed amiably, "what brings you out to see an old man in this heat?"

She scrunched her face up, "Must you call yourself an old man? You're barely middle aged."

Pyotyr chuckled, "Pah, I'm older than I look. Besides, I've always wanted to be an old man. They always did look like they had more fun. So I'll take the title a few years earlier regardless, thank you."

Alisaie sighed, "Fine. I just wanted to find you in case we needed you. The Exarch and Beq Lugg are still working on our crystals, but they might find a breakthrough any minute now."

Pyotyr nodded, "All in good time, I'm sure." He busied himself with writing a label for his new batch of potions.

"So..." Alisaie leaned down after a moment, "What are you working on?"

"Oh!" Pyotyr looked up at her, "Spagyrics needed some help brewing up some healing potions, and I just happened to be an alchemist with Idle hands. And speaking of Idle hands, now I just need someone to deliver them back to Spagyrics!"

"Wha-" Alisaie began, but before she could complete her question, Pyotyr stood up and shoved a crate of potions into her hands.

"Here! You can save an old man a bit of a walk!"

"You're not OLD, Pyotyr, stop saying- wait, are you offering me a quest?"

Pyotyr nodded sagely, "Of course! Just because we're waiting around doesn't mean we let our adventuring muscles atrophy."

Alisaie's face scrunched up again, skeptically, "Don't quests usually have payment?"

Pyotyr scratched his chin thoughtfully for a moment, "Hm, You're right."

He patted down his frock for just a moment, and then, "Aha!" 

He let out a shout of triumph as his long fingers darted into a pocket and removed two sizable packages of waxed paper. He opened one just enough to reveal the contents.

"Are those... sandwiches?" Alisaie looked up at him in disbelief.

"Not just ANY sandwiches," Pyotyr grinned triumphantly, "They're Dzo Meat and Sheep's Cheese! Fresh from the Source!"

"Wait, you went back to the Source for sandwiches?"

Pyotyr nodded, a smug grin on his face, "Of course I did! Listen, I love the First. It's a wonderful place. But Nothing they have here tastes quite like fresh sheep's cheese and Dzo Meat prepared by my loyal subjects in the Azim Steppes. And I am prepared to offer you one whole sandwich of your own if you deliver that crate of potions to Spagyrics and come right back!"

Alisaie blinked, once, twice, "You went through the effort of teleportation BETWEEN WORLDS, with all the dangers thereof, for a sandwich-"

Whatever rant she was building up died on her lips, "You know what? Fine. I could use some lunch. But on one condition!"

Pyotyr, who had already re-wrapped and tucked away the sandwiches for safekeeping, looked down at Alisaie, hands clasped behind his back, "And what would that be, my dear Miss Leveilleur?"

"Let's have Lunch together?"

Pyotyr chuckled, "Alright, Alright. But hurry back. Old men get grumpy when they have to delay lunchtime too long."

Alisaie opened her mouth one more time, then closed it, then shook her head and smiled fondly, "Alright. I'll be right back. You'd better wait!"

Pyotyr waved at her swiftly retreating form and sat back down on the bench, looking up at the mid-day sky through the transparent glass that topped the structure with one closed eye, "Ah, good. That should buy me enough time for a short nap..."

And thus he closed his eyes, there among the greenery, singing softly as he dozed off,

"I wish I was in Limsa Lominsa... only for nights in Vylbrand..."

**Author's Note:**

> The song Pyotyr is murmuring as he drifts off to his nap is meant to be similar in tune and content to "Carrickfergus," one of my favorite folk songs.


End file.
